Broken
by lindseyleprosy
Summary: After Bella's mother dies, Bella goes crazy. Will Edward be able to rescue her from insanity, or will her new attitude run him off?
1. Funerals

_Drowning in his sweet suicide  
My lover touches my cheek  
I want to scream and run from him  
So why can I not speak?  
_

_I feel a breeze, tainted and cold  
Rippling through my skin  
When he is gone and I'm still here  
Will I still want to sin? _

_Once when I was all alone  
I did not wish to live  
If he is there and I am here  
Does he have nothing to give?_

_Drowning in his sweet suicide  
I want to die._

_Sweet Suicide (Original Poem by ME!)_

* * *

_Bella likes to play games. She likes to take Rosalie's dolls and smash their faces in, then hide them so the beautiful blond vixen will never find them. Bella likes to hurt.__ She enjoys taking a knife to her arm, feeling the crimson juice spread out over her pale skin. Bella's twisted and screwed-up and. . .broken._

Bella frowned for the forty-fifth time that day. Alice had counted. "It's not right."

"Bella. . ._please_." Alice begged as she raced around the room, trying to fix the mess she had made earlier.

Bella turned a little in the long dress to see how she looked in the vanity mirror, taking little steps to avoid tripping. It flowed over her petite frame, making her look like one of Rosalie's stupid dolls. Alice smoothed out a few wrinkles and stepped back, admiring her work with grim satisfaction.

"I'm not going." Bella pulled at the neckline of the black silk dress - the only dress fit for mourning that the Cullens had. She winced as a pin poked into her back - Alice had been forced to pull the dress together, since it fell off Bella's slender frame. Bella had lost five pounds in two days, she hadn't eaten a bite since she got the bad news.

"You are too. Now stop fussing about, you're going to rip that dress!" Alice scolded gently.

"Funerals are stupid things. What use is it to stand around honoring someone's life when they have no idea you're doing it?" Bella murmured, obviously pissed off.

"Oh, I don't know. But you're going. And that's final." Alice ordered.

* * *

Bella made her way down the carpeted aisle to the casket. She paused just before she reached it, and choked back the tears sparkling in her eyes. _I _won't_ cry. I _won't_ cry._ She thought, stubbornly. But once she reached the casket, tears poured out relentlessly, paying no heed to the thoughts. 

In the casket lay Bella's mother, Renee, in all her youth and beauty. Her hair flowed around her beautiful face, and the white dress brought out the pure, loving spirit of Renee. Bella bent over as the tears flowed, and kissed her mother's cheek, wincing when her cracked lips touched the cold surface of the body. "Dead." Bella whispered to herself, as the original shock flushed out of her and was cloaked by sadness and realization that after today, she would never again see the child-like face of her mother, or hear her speak in that carefree voice that Renee always had.

A hand came over hers, rough and warm. "Bells," a familiar voice said. "She's in a better place." Bella spun around and cried into her father's shoulder, not even noticing the musky smell of moth-balls on his tuxedo.

"You came." her voice was muffled by the cotton suit.

"Why wouldn't I? She was important to me, too." Charlie had refused to speak Renee's name since he'd found out, he resorted to calling his ex-wife 'she'. He patted Bella's back lovingly.

The music started, and Bella separated from her dad to take a seat by Edward as the ceremony began.

"Dearly Beloved," the gray-haired preacher said in a brusque voice. "We gather here to say our goodbyes. . ." And Bella shifted closer to Edward, pressing into him as if she could melt into his body and make all her hurt go away. Edward didn't register her, aside from wrapping his arm around her comfortingly.

"We can accept the loss of Renee, but recognize it is not the end. . . " Bella frowned. She didn't like that sentence. It was the end. The end of seeing her dear mother. Forever.

* * *

After the service, Bella didn't want to go to the graveyard. She ignored Alice's begging words, kissed Charlie goodbye, and walked out to the car, Edward agreeing with her wordlessly, and Alice racing after her, her heels clicking against the concrete pavement. She slid into the passenger's seat of the Volvo and breathed slowly as she waited for Edward to pull himself into the driver's seat. 

"Go fast." she ordered.

Once Edward had reached his house, Bella dipped out quickly, as did Edward, but Alice stayed in the car, sulking. Bella, traveling as fast as her dress would allow, rushed into the trees behind the house, not stopping until she'd reached a small brook where water babbled, drowning out her sobs.

But not even the loud gurgles of the water rolling over rocks cloaked her sobs well enough. At least, not for Edward. He had followed her in hot pursuit, and now, as he watched her crying, he had not the faintest idea of what to do. He wanted to embrace her, but if she pushed him away everything would be awkward. He stepped toward her, not making a noise, and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't push him away, instead she crumpled into his arms like a rag doll, whimpering and sobbing even louder.

She looked up at him, her black eyeliner running from the tears, and choked out, "She's gone, Edward. She's really gone."

Edward gingerly tried to wipe away the black with his finger, but he only managed to smear it. He noticed a little stream of tears run down her stained cheek and bent down hurriedly to delicately kiss it away.

Bella nestled her face into his chest, hiccuping. "Edward. She's dead. Everyone dies. I don't want to die. _Ever_."

At that, Edward, having no tears left to cry, felt that if he could have any human function back at the moment, it would be crying.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED! 


	2. Losing Sanity

_I lay dying  
and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal  
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming  
am I too lost to be saved  
am I too lost?_

_From Tourniquet (Song By Evanescence)_

* * *

_We watched Bella melt away more and more each day. The blade could not be coaxed from her hand. The empty look her eyes had adapted did not fade away, but grew more and more vacant. She was no longer the Bella we knew and loved. No, that Bella was long gone._

Blood fell from her wrist just as words would have emerged from her lips, had she not forgotten how to speak her feelings. She found refuge in pain, and her former request for life was now forgotten, as she prayed to be with her mother.

"Bella!" came a familiar call, from down the stairs. Her head pounded, and she was dizzy, but she succeeded in standing, stumbling to the bathroom, and washing her wounds in the sink. The cold water stung, and she gasped as she looked at the stripes on her arms, reminders of the pain she had endured to cover up reality. She pulled down her sleeves as the flow of blood ceased and rushed out of the bathroom, sitting on her bed. All she wore was one of Edward's long sweaters.

"Bella." Edward opened the door. "Hey, Bella? Are you okay?" his eyes lingered on her body for a moment.

She jerked her head in a nod. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him, letting her fingers trail down his chest.

"Bella, what are you doing?" a mortified look spread across Edward's face.

Bella didn't answer. She ran her finger down Edward's icy flesh, to his left hand, which was against his side. She picked it up, her fingers trickling across his palm. His face did not relax. She unballed his fingers, which were curled up in frustration, and kissed each one of them, sucking them delicately.

Edward tensed, and he tried to take his finger from her, but found that a stronger impulse drove him to give up. "Bella, please."

Please didn't work for Bella, she didn't care. She led his hand down the shirt, down to her thighs. She put his hand between her legs and kissed him passionately, balling up one end of her shirt with her free hand, the other holding Edward's freezing hand in place.

Edward pulled his mouth away from hers and released a husky pant. "Oh, God. Oh, God, Bells." he buried his head in the top of her head and tried to catch his breath - which, of course, he didn't need.

"Rip me apart." she moaned.

Edward started. "W-what?" he spluttered.

"I want to feel you inside of me, shredding me into little pieces from the inside out."

Stunned, Edward yanked his hand from between her legs, and pulled her close to him. "No. No no no. Why would you think that, Bells? Why would you think I would ever hurt you?"

"I. . .I don't know."

"Bella. Bella, look at me." he cupped her face gently into his hands. "Bella, I could never hurt you. I love you." Bella shivered in Edward's cold arms. He picked her up effortlessly and laid her onto the bed, covering her up with a load of blankets. He lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the back of her neck.

"When fire meets ice. . ." she murmured, falling asleep.

"Yes, honey." he whispered in her ear, then murmured, "Whatever that means." Edward brushed the hair out of her face and watched her rest. It pained him so much to see her this way._ The only time she's ever sane is when she's sleeping,_ he thought. _If I could just somehow make her remember her old self. . . __  
_

* * *

Edward woke up in his empty bed. "Bells? Bella?" he asked, then he heard a loud noise upstairs. He rushed up the staircase and burst into Rosalie and Emmett's room. "Isabella!" he coughed. "What the h -" 

Rosalie's dolls were thrown around the room, some hanging from the ceiling fan with shoelaces tied around their necks, some lined up on Rosalie's dresser, their faces turned to the wall. Some even sat in little circles, as if they had just finished doing Ring Around The Rosie. All had their eyes smashed out. The eyes were nowhere to be seen, but as for Bella, she was in the middle of the room, whimpering. "I couldn't stand the way they stared at me."

"Honey, of course they stared, they're _dolls_." Edward tried to reason with her.

"No. They looked at me with their glass eyes, as if I were no good. As if I were some sort of scumbag." she turned to face the dolls and screamed, "I'M NOT SCUM!"

Edward raced to her. "Bella. Bella. Bella. Bella." he grabbed her, and she tried to wriggle free, but he held onto her tight. "Bella. Bella." he repeated her name over and over, trying to calm her.

"Am I scum, Edward?"

"No. Not ever. You're perfect." he brushed a thumb across her cheek. "You are a wonderful, non-scum." Bella blushed a little and laughed, but it wasn't her normal laugh.

"Edward? Bella? We're home!" called Carlisle, and Edward could hear the clinking of keys on the kitchen counter, and knew that Rosalie would throw a hissy fit.

* * *

Bella sat on her bed upstairs, her fingers laced around a cup of warm tea, her eyes vacant, and her mouth pulled into a non-feeling line. Downstairs she could hear thumps and yells and cries of rage from Rosalie. 

"Edward, those were my darlings!"

"Rosie, she's. . .she's not well."

"Honestly, Rosalie. Aren't you old enough that you should give up those dolls already? You've had them for nearly a hundred years, their dresses are all faded, we could get you new ones -" Emmett's voice cut in, but he was soon interrupted by the sound of expensive high heels stomping on the wooden floor.

"Oh, so now you stick up for Ms. Loony-Bin up there?" cried Rosalie, and Bella could have been absolutely sure that Rosalie had raised her voice just so Bella could hear her. "I don't want new dolls! I want my old ones!"

Bella's mug slipped from her hands.

* * *

_CRASH!_

"Oh, shit! Bella?" Edward raced up the stairs to his room, and saw the broken mug.

"I dropped it." she answered, showing no emotion.

"Yeah. But that's okay. I'll get it." And Edward mopped up the mess and hand picked the pieces of broken mug because he didn't want Bella to hurt herself. "Would you like some more tea? I mean, Esme could fix you some more."

"No. I'm full."

"You've barely eaten anything."

"I'm full."

"Bell -"

"FULL!"

* * *

Edward had retreated downstairs after Bella had started yelling nonsense, and only now did he come back up, with a few nerve pills he had gotten at the pharmacy and a glass of water. He walked to the couch, where Bella sat bobbing her head out of rhythm to a song on the radio, and sat down beside her. "Hey, Bella. Here's something that'll make you all better." he slipped two pills into her mouth, and raised the glass of water to her cracked lips. She sipped mindlessly and swallowed the pills. 

"Okay, now, Bells. Let's go to bed." he carried her over to the bed and tucked her in, then walked over to the radio and switched it to his Lullaby for her. He crawled in the bed and watched her sleep yet another night. Somewhere around 4:00 A.M., he zoned out, suffering from her crazy-talk. Usually when she talked in her sleep it was about him - tonight it was about death and fury and ice.

He 'awoke' from his daydream when Bella shifted on the mattress. He looked over at her and smiled. "Good morning, Sunshine. What are you doing?"

"Counting the stars."

"Bella, there are no stars. We're inside."

"Stars!" she ordered sharply. So Edward made it a point to go out to the Dollar Store and purchase some glow-in-the-dark star shapes.

Edward stuck them to the ceiling with tape then put curtains over the windows and turned out the lights. And Bella lay on her back all day, repeating to herself, "One. . .two. . .three. . .four. . .five. . .one. . .two. . .three. . ."

* * *

Edward walked up the stairs with a bowl of peas in his hands. He went to his room and headed straight to Bella. "Here, baby, sit up." he helped her sit up on the bed. 

He dipped a baby spoon into the peas and scooped some out. He moved it toward Bella's mouth and she obediently opened, and let him feed her. After she ate, she lay back down and traced circles on the blankets.

Later, when he came upstairs to get her into the shower, she was sitting on her bed, sobbing. "Fire. Fire. It burns, Edward."

Edward gaped. It had been the first time she had said his name since the doll incident, and he was surprised she remembered it. He moved towards her. "What burns?" She pulled at her clothing in response. "Okay, okay, Bella. I'll fix it. Just a sec." he pulled off her t-shirt and shouted in surprise, sending her into a wide-eyed panic. "Bella! What have you done!" he moved his hand to the scars and newly-healed cuts, and traced them with an icy finger. She had almost completely healed, since she hadn't been sane enough to mutilate herself. Edward kissed trails of ice down her arms, trying to make them heal faster, which he knew was a feat that could not be managed with his mere lips.

Edward helped Bella into the shower. He was going to keep an even closer watch on her now than he had been. He pulled out a fluffy white towel and a soft white rag, and lathered it up with body wash. He ran the rag down Bella, cleaning her off, all the while wanting to crush something. What had he done wrong to make her do this to herself? He touched the rag softly to the wounds, and since she didn't utter an 'ow', he washed them as best - and as soft - as he could. "Oh, Bella. How could I let this happen to you?"

* * *

Edward stormed to the Gym, his shoulders hunched over, trying to block himself from the rain. He thought of how much anger he had to unleash, and thought the Gym wasn't the safest place to do that, so he turned and headed into a deserted alleyway. He looked around hurriedly - no one was around. The closest person was two blocks away. So he took his foot and smashed it into the wall, and the wall crumbled. He smashed the bricks to a dusty pulp, then turned on the dumpster, throwing it against another wall, then punching dents into the dumpster until he sat in the middle of the debris and started to dry sob. 


	3. Ruined

_Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming  
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights  
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming  
The goddess of imaginary light_

_(Song by Evanescence)_

* * *

_Bella was lost to us. There was no chance of convalescence. She was doomed to end in the same place that Alice had began._

"I just, I don't know why I didn't _smell _her. Know she was doing this!" Edward's voice boomed.

"I did - I just thought. She's a girl, I mean. . ." stammered Jasper, blushing.

Alice remained silent.

"Alice!" shouted Edward. "You saw this? And you didn't tell me?"

"I thought it was gonna go away. It was just twice. . ."

"Twice is more than enough!"

A loud squeal came from upstairs, and Edward raced up the stairs to find Bella rocking back and forth, crying.

"What's the matter Bella?"

"Who's Bella?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair.

* * *

Carlisle paced the living room floor, and Edward's eyes followed him as he moved. "What do we do, Carlisle?" 

"Edward. . .Don't get angry."

"Just tell me what to do, how to make her better." Edward was a babbling mess.

"That's just it, Edward - We can't make her better. She can't even remember her own name. We have to send her someplace -"

"But she's Bella, Carlisle!" Edward boomed, his eyes flickering black. "She's my baby. I can't ship her away like some kind of broken doll." the image of Rosalie's dolls flashed into his mind.

"I'm sorry, Edward." Carlisle mumbled, exasperated. "There's nothing else we _can_ do." He tossed a knowing look to Edward.

Alice wandered in, biting her lip, her eyes wide. She tossed her short hair and argued. "No, Carlisle. She's not going to end in the same place I began. She isn't going. . ." she choked up, then restarted. "She isn't going to the dark place."

"Alice." Carlisle reached a hand out to his daughter and pulled her into his arms.

"She just can't." Alice's voice was muffled by the sound of dry sobs and Carlisle's crisp lab coat.

* * *

"Bella, this is Dr. Gregor. He's going to play a game with you." Edward lifted Bella into his lap. A rotund man stood before them, his gray hair poking out in every which way. 

"Hi, Bella." Dr. Gregor patted Bella's head, and she snarled defensively - something she'd picked up from Edward. Dr. Gregor yanked his hand from her head and returned it to his side. He pulled a cracked maroon briefcase from the floor and opened the top flap. He extracted a yellow folder and set the bag back on the ground. He opened the folder and pulled out a pile of paper with ink splatters on them.

"Bella, this is Dr. Gregor." Edward explained again. "Bella, he wants to show you some pictures. You tell him what you see, okay, Bella?" he repeated her name thickly, making sure he made eye contact with her every time he said her name.

Bella nodded absentmindedly. She didn't know anything but Edward. She didn't know her name, or what this man was doing in her and Edward's room, or why Edward kept calling her 'Bella'.

"Okay. Here's the first image, Bella." Dr. Gregor said calmly, showing a sheet with black ink spilled over it. "What do you see?"

"Dark." she mouthed. All she could stare at was the penetrating black, covering up the white that was her life.

"Okay, what about this one?" Dr. Gregor pulled another picture out.

"Dark." she said in a monotone. Edward traced little circles on her back, comfortingly.

"And this one?"

"Real dark." she shivered slightly, and Edward pulled a cover from the bed around her.

"I see. Can you tell me what this one is?" Dr. Gregor pulled a card out from his bag. On it was a picture of a smiling yellow sun.

"Glitter. Meadow." she whispered, a smile dancing across her face. Bella had memories, she just didn't know why there were never any new ones. The same ones just kept repeating: her and Edward in the meadow, the ballet studio, her with Jacob, Italy.

Dr. Gregor frowned, the words made no sense to him. "Edward, may I have a word?"

"Sure." Edward stood up and walked outside, Dr. Gregor in hot pursuit.

Bella pulled the cover around her, humming a song that Edward played almost daily on the piano.

* * *

"I'm sorry." The first words out of Dr. Gregor's mouth made Edward panic. 

"What do you mean?"

"There's just no hope for her, Edward. She doesn't even know what she's saying these days. She makes no sense. I show her a sun and she says 'meadow'. We have to put her somewhere, for her own safety."

"No!" Edward yelled. "No!"

"Edward. I think that maybe if we put her somewhere, she'll come to her senses. Time alone might cure her, give her something to think about. Her mother's death was. . .well, to her it was like the end of the world. She couldn't see a life beyond her mother. . ." as Dr. Gregor continued, Edward wondered why it would kill Bella so much that her mother had died. She would eventually - should Bella have become a vampire, she would still have to see the day her mother died. So why was she taking it so hard? ". . . usually when a teenager loses someone close, they fall into some sort of depression. But Bella, she's even worse than when you left - she's beyond catatonic - she's dead inside." The word 'dead' shocked Edward. He winced. He never wanted to hear Bella and dead in the same sentence. It brought to life his worst realization. He missed his Bella, he was to the point where he would do anything to have her back.

"So, if I send her to an asylum, she'll come back to life?"

"More or less. It might take a while, but she has a large chance of coming to - waking up, I would say."

"Okay." he nodded. "When do we take her?"

"As soon as you want to."

* * *

BELLA'S P.O.V.

They took me away from Edward today. They took me from his shiny car and put me in a white room. I'm scared. I know everything that's happened since . . . since my mother died. But they say I've changed. The cuts and bruises, the acting out. And I can't speak much anymore. It feels like my body has been taken over by some sort of demon.

The walls here are soft, but everything is too warm. All I do is scream for Edward, because when I'm not screaming, everything is silent, and I know Edward isn't here.

Edward left me again. I see him sometimes, looking into my eyes, holding my hands as he kisses my eyelids, my forehead, everything but my lips. Just like that one time, when I thought it was because he was planning on leaving me again. And he always does leave. He walks out of that white door and doesn't come back for what feels like years.

Sometimes the big men stab me. They stab and stab and stab into my skin and they make me sleepy. But that only makes the pain of not seeing Edward get worse, because I know when I go to sleep that when I wake up, he should be there. But he never is.

Dr. Gregor has stopped by a few times. He's told me that when I get better I can be with Edward again. So I try really hard to say the big words that I used to.

Charlie pops in every day. I always hear him talking to Dr. Gregor in a hushed voice. Dr. Gregor says my screaming is part of the sickness, but he's wrong - it's part of the treatment.

THE END!


End file.
